


growing up is hard to do

by theexistentialqueer



Category: Old Kingdom - Garth Nix
Genre: Gen, No Beta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 11:05:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16061819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theexistentialqueer/pseuds/theexistentialqueer
Summary: Ellimere doesn't want to go away to school.





	growing up is hard to do

"Are you sure?" Ellimere asked in her most upright manner. "Are you really, really sure that I must go?" Coming from Ellimere, who had so far proven to be a most reasonable and proper child, this was protest indeed. That Ellimere should even raise her voice against a decision by her parents, something Sam was sure to do while Ellimere would give a ladylike sniff and tell her brother that Mother and Father were only doing what was best, was a surprise.

 

Ellimere truly did not want to go.

 

"Elly, please," Mummy said, holding out her arms to gather her into them. Normally Elly loved Mummy's hugs. Mummy was gone so often that her hugs were cherished. But Elly was wiser now, and she knew that this hug was a goodbye before sending Elly south. Elly did not want to go south. They wanted to send her away from Belisaere, far away south, whatever that meant, beyond the Wall to some place called Wyverly in Ancelstierre, and Ellimere would not have it. Mummy and Papa could not send her away. She would not bear it. Her place was with them, to help them with all of their burdens.

 

Ellimere might only be five-and-a-half--well, five and seven months, but no one else seemed to consider that fact at all remarkable--but she knew what her duty was. Ellimere liked the word _duty._ It sounded important, and Elly knew that she was important, because Papa was King and Mummy was Abhorsen, and they had _duties_ , and it was Elly's duty to help take care of the kingdom. She'd be Queen one day, after all. She might as well start being a responsible one right now.

 

"But Mummy, if I go, who's going to wait for you at the paperwing field?" Ellimere asked. This seemed to her five-and-seven-months old mind to be of a paramount importance among her princessly duties, which also included making sure Sameth didn't get mud on his velvet doublet. "And Papa forgets to eat his green veggies for lunch sometimes. I have to remind him of that. You always said the green veggies were as important as the meat."

 

Mummy looked very sad in one way, but also like she was trying to fight off a rising smile. "It's true your papa needs to eat his green veggies at lunch," she said. "I don't think it would be too much trouble to ask Damed to make sure he eats them."

 

Ellimere felt very strongly that she was going to cry, but crying wasn't proper. She was a princess. She needed to be--to be--she struggled to think of the right word, with her limited child vocabulary, and remembered one of Mummy and Papa's rare arguments, when Mummy had said Papa wasn't _emotionally mature_. That sounded right, though Ellimere only had a dim idea of what it might mean. Princesses should be _emotionally mature_.

 

"You'll go to Mummy's old school," Mummy was saying now. "I met some of my very best friends there and it's the place of some of my happiest memories." It was the place of some of Sabriel's worst memories, too, but she would spare Ellimere of that, even if she couldn't go back and spare Ellimere's namesake. "And I'll visit you twice a year, at midsummer and midwinter, and Papa will try to visit you even more often. You'll have so much fun making friends that you'll be very happy, and then during holidays you can come back to Belisaere and it will feel like you've had a grand adventure."

 

Ellimere's lip trembled. She was trying very hard not to cry. Sabriel, distantly, was proud and saddened at how well she managed it. Children should be allowed their tantrums--although in that same distant way, Sabriel remembered being a very peaceable child. Ellimere merely took after her mother.

 

"But what about the paperwing field?" the child asked plaintively. "Who's going to welcome you when you come home?"

 

It took Sabriel some moments to think of how to answer this. She wanted to say Papa would, but the reality is Touchstone could be off on his own emergency at the time. She wanted to say Sameth, but she knew that wouldn't reassure Ellimere, because Sameth was a far more carefree baby than the responsible Ellimere, and while Sameth would gladly throw himself into his mother's arms when she returned from one of her dangerous treks away from home, he was likely to be so absorbed in his toys that he forgot what day it was. 

 

Finally Sabriel said, "I shall have to endure coming home to no hugs and kisses on the paperwing field, because my very special princess has a responsibility to go to school. And when she comes home, she can have her own very special, official duty of welcoming the Abhorsen back to Belisaere."

 

The idea of having something official to do, of being an important member of the machinery of governance in the capital, even though Ellimere had a child's dim idea of what that machinery was, or entailed, or did, had her beaming with a smile. There was still the threat of tears in her eyes, but Ellimere swiped at them furiously, and her cheeks were bright pink. "You mean I can have a proper title and everything, besides being a princess?"

 

Here, Sabriel treaded carefully. "I have to talk to your Papa, of course," she said. "After all, he's the King, and it's the King who must grant public offices. But," she added, "even if the councilors won't let him, you'll still be our own official Royal Greeter."

 

"Royal Greeter," Ellimere breathed, eyes going vacant as imagination took over. 

 

"So will you go to Wyverly, darling?" Sabriel asked. Naturally Ellimere had no choice--she was going to Wyverly even if she disagreed, but Sabriel and Touchstone wanted their children to feel autonomous, and not to feel shunted away and ignored. It was important that Ellimere agreed, so that Ellimere felt respected. Sabriel rememberd girls at Wyverly whose parents had ordered them there without any regard for their feelings or wishes, and how miserable those girls had been. She and Touchstone didn't want their children to feel any of what those girls had felt.

 

Ellimere snapped out of her daydream and became stolid and proper again. Her brow screwed up, that little pinch showing between her eyebrows, as she thought very hard child thoughts. "You promise you'll visit twice a year?"

 

"Cross my heart and hope to die," Sabriel said, the old Ancelstierran saying coming naturally to her tongue. She was relieved out of nowhere that Ellimere only held on to the "twice a year" bit, and not the "midwinter and midsummer" bit. Because if something happened that demanded Sabriel's attention, she might miss midwinter or midsummer, but she would decidedly not miss visiting her daughter as often as promised.

 

"And you promise I can come home on holidays?"

 

"We'll make it a party," Sabriel promised. "Just for us."

 

Ellimere grew quiet again, before asking, "You really liked it there, Mummy?"

 

"Darling," Sabriel said, taking Ellimere's hands, "you are named after one of the very best friends I have ever had in my life, and I met her at Wyverly."

 

Her daughter considered this very seriously, that little crease again in her brow. Then it smoothed out, and Ellimere drew herself up with all of her five-and-seven-months old dignity, and proclaimed, "Then I shall go to Wyverly, and learn what Mummy learned."


End file.
